


Of Leylines and Limitations (or lack thereof)

by kat_elric



Series: Of Bonds, Blood, and Bones Universe [2]
Category: Mercy Thompson Series - Patricia Briggs, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24516784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_elric/pseuds/kat_elric
Summary: After 200 years, Stiles feels that it is his duty to protect his land from certain things. By this point, he has more than enough power of his own and friends to do it.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Of Bonds, Blood, and Bones Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771762
Comments: 23
Kudos: 394





	Of Leylines and Limitations (or lack thereof)

**Author's Note:**

> This is really just an excuse to write some BAMF Stiles almost 200 years into the future. This may contain a few minor spoilers for Of Bonds, Blood, and Bones. It also might not make too much sense if you haven't read that fic of mine yet, but it won't hurt anything if you read this first. 
> 
> This was written while listening to Answer by ATEEZ on repeat so pop that on if you want a little mood setting music. Enjoy! :)

His eyes snap open, silver ringed in red and he grins. “Not in my land,” he says with a smile and the large black wolf beside him agrees with a growl. One hand settles in the thick fur of his mate and the other stretches to his pack that waits just beyond the huge stump of a tree that he stands on. With his mind he traces the leyline, following its familiar warmth as he stretches to feel it through his land. 

Their prey was foolish enough to hunt near one of the ley lines that stretch lazily through the western half of the United States, expanding more so in recent months. He hooks his magic into a node and then raises the metaphysical protective net around his pack. 

“Here we go,” he says lightly. Derek throws back his head and howls, a cry of battle that is taken up by his pack. Grining, Stiles uses his magic and _pulls_. He never quite figured out what happens when he does this, but the nerdy part of him wants to imagine that they dematerialize in a swirl of lights and then rematerlize where he wants. Unfortunately, that is too slow of a process. Instead when he inhales they are standing at the heart of his power in Beacon Hills and when he exhales, they are suddenly four states away in the middle of a small town that is being massacred by a coven of black witches. 

He drops the net immediately and his pack goes to work, sending citizens and dark creatures alike screaming in all directions. The creatures aren’t his problem, the witches are. 

“You!” one of them snarls and hurls a spell at him. 

Laughing, Stiles reaches out and tangles the weave of magic in his fingers, instinctively shredding the working. He leaches the darkness from it, giving it to the land to purify and holds the power in his palm. Deaton had told him years ago that it was a stupid thing to even attempt but one that he thought ended up working really well for his purposes. 

“Me,” he agrees, pulling in the next spell that is launched his way and adding it the same way. “We can do this one of two ways, you can surrender and die quickly or you can fight and I can’t promise that I won’t feed you to my pet vampires.” 

“You don’t have pet vampires!” She snarls as he feels her coven feeding her power to weave a more powerful spell. “Vampires will not be owned.” 

Stiles laughs again and watches her eyes widen in fear as two vampires suddenly appear to either side of him. Cora sets her elbow on his shoulder and leans against him casually as Danny grins to his other side. 

“You’re right,” She says lazily, flashing her fangs at the witches. “He happens to be my brother in law, which makes our loyalty unquestionable.” 

“So I’ll ask again,” Stiles says, tossing the ball of energy into the air like it is a baseball. “How do you want it?” 

The black witch snarls and hurls the spell she had been weaving at him. With a shrug he reaches out and thrusts the ball of power into it, disrupting what felt like a nasty death curse. This one takes more of his concentration to separate and by the time he has it done, the women are finished screaming from their meeting with his vampire family. 

Out of the shadows a black wolf seems to materialize followed by a strawberry blond clad in heels and leather. He holds the ball of power out to her, “How many am I looking for?” 

Lydia’s eyes go glassy for a moment, “Six are there. The rest are too fragmented.” 

“Right,” Stiles nods and sits cross legged with his little ball of power. Six souls to save so Lydia can send them on. It takes him a while to unravel the magic signatures and hand them to her one by one, when he is finished he is left with fragmented power that he carefully feeds back into the leyline beneath the town. That done, he rises and finds Derek watching him with human eyes. 

“Finished?” he asks. 

Derek nods, “Jordan is finishing purifying things.” Fire works just as well as Stiles’s magic can at the task.

“Good,” Stiles nods, and wraps his arms around his mate’s neck, burying a hand in his hair before sealing their mouths together. Playing with that much power always leaves him just as aroused as a good battle can leave Derek. Growling the Alpha pulls him close, deepening the kiss in the way that makes Stiles knees weak even after almost 200 years together. 

“Bran is going to be pissed that you can reach this far now,” Derek growls against his lips. 

“We took care of the witch problem here so he can suck it,” Stiles says and then groans as Derek sucks a mark into his neck. 

“I dare you to tell him that,” Lydia says with a laugh. 

Stiles hums in pleasure as Derek paints his skin with nips and licks. “Maybe I will,” then he captures his mate’s lips for another passionate kiss before stepping away. “Alright call them.” 

Derek narrows his eyes, but throws back his head and releases a howl that sounds strange coming from a human throat. One by one the pack materializes out of the darkness, including a small collection of vampires. Stiles knows that by this point, the pack cleans up after themselves and besides some outlandish stories and a few unfortunate recently murdered people, there would be nothing to show that witches, vampires, werewolves, or creatures of any kind were ever here. 

Stiles waits until the pack has gathered again before drawing up his net and reaching for home. The Nemeton welcomes his touch with the warmth of a close friend or lover and he anchors them there saying, “Keep your paws and claws inside the bubble at all times please!” 

“Stiles,” Derek groans, rolling his eyes and hooking an arm around his mate’s waist. 

He just grins in response and _pulls_. In a blink they are gone, leaving an empty street and a quiet town behind.


End file.
